Bittersweet
by Stori
Summary: Having kept their promise to stay together, Hawke and Fenris have spent the past few years on the run after the fall of Kirkwall. Now they must find their scattered companions once more to seek aid in a journey neither of them were prepared for. Also Hurt/Comfort. (Title may change)
1. Chapter 1

**I have to admit, I am an absolute sucker for the HawkexFenris stories (almost to an unhealthy degree) so when a friend suggested that I write Hawke and Fenris's story from where the game left off, I couldn't resist. Several weeks later and many a twist added in, this story was born.**

**While the story is mine, the idea is written in honor for my friend who couldn't produce a creative or structural sentence to save her life—but heavens do I love your devious mind. **

**Also, mad props to the creators of Dragon Age 2. As short as the game was, you gave birth to characters that I—along with your vast fandom—can't get enough of. As well as an ending left so deliciously open, us writers can't resist the chance to create a story of our own. **

**As a side note to the readers, this fanfic uses the standard f!Hawke design and look, but her name is of my character from when I played the game (though it will almost never be said, so 'Hawke' will still be the predominant use of her name, as it was in the game.) **

**With that, enjoy. **

**.-.-. **

**Chapter One. **

The fire went out with a sizzle and a crack as Hawke poured water over it. A kick of dirt over top, and their small source of warmth disappeared as if it were never there. Fenris paused in the gathering of his things to look up at Hawke, as did the Mabari, Brutus, who was sitting patiently by his side. She smiled down at them, her eyes tired from a crooked sleep schedule and worn from travel.

Fenris, quite obviously, was more accustomed to traveling at night, but after months of doing so, even he was starting to look the same. "Eager to be off, Hawke?" He raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"Heh, not at all," Hawke said reaching for the largest pack of the three they carried. "Just eager to get to Starkhaven." Fenris laid a gauntleted hand over top the pack instead. This time Hawke cocked an eyebrow in response but Fenris just shook his head.

"There isn't much further left; I'll carry it for the final stretch." Hawke simply shrugged and layered the two smaller packs over her back before raising her hood. Fenris mirrored her actions but stayed low to the ground as he pulled a faded and roughly used map from his belt. He unfolded it as he had many times before and spread it out for the two of them to see. Hawke bent low over his shoulder as he pointed at a spot just above the blue squiggly line labeled _Minanter River_. "We are here," he started, "just five leagues from Starkhaven,"—Fenris moved his finger across the map to the correct point—"given the time we've been making as of late, and assuming we don't come across any more trouble," he paused to look at Hawke who just rolled her eyes mumbling "you'll never let that go" before continuing, "we should be there by mid-night. Possibly later if the currents of the river aren't too bad."

"And we have a route across the river right?"

"Correct," Fenris pointed a particularly mean looking bend in the river's snake-like form on the map. "There is a bridge here that stretches between two mountainous cliffs. This is an old bridge, but it should still be as sturdy as it was the last I used it."

"'The last you used it?'" Hawke quoted, "So you're going on a hunch that that bridge is still there from when you were on the run from Denarius?"

Fenris just shrugged, for this hadn't been the first time Hawke had questioned his methods of travel, "It hasn't been that long since I arrived at Kirkwall. I doubt much has happened to this part of the Free Marches since we left."

"It's been nine years since you arrived at Kirkwall, Fenris. And only two of those years were spent with me while on the run."

"All the same. It isn't a well-known bridge. I doubt anyone has used it in quite some time."

Hawke just looked at him. He should know better then to assume the Templars hadn't torn apart every bush looking for them in the Free Marches. Not that that had helped the Templars much.

After the events at Kirkwall, Hawke and her friends had known better than to try escaping through the Free Marches. In stead they had taken a route Isabela knew of along the coast towards Ostwick. Though that had also been the last place Hawke had traveled to with the pirate. A bittersweet taste came with that memory; Hawke quickly buried it away, back to the recess of her mind. She hadn't wanted to touch those sad months of parting between her and her former companions for the longest time. Not before—

"Hawke?"

Fenris drew Hawke back into reality with a gasp of breath. He touched her hand lightly but she just smiled, slipping him a quick kiss before standing and stretching her limbs in preparation for the walk ahead of them. "Well, that distance isn't going to shorten by just standing here will it? Let's be off while we still have a little daylight left."

He gave her a strange look, but Fenris didn't argue. Just stood and whistled Brutus along, taking the lead at the front of their small troop as it traveled down the hillside.

Hawke tried desperately to keep a quiet conversation going on between them, to keep his interest on the sound of her voice. But Fenris had never been one for small talk during travel, so Hawke tried a different method to keeping her thoughts at bay. She tried listening to the crunch of leaves under their feet, the occasional squirrel rushing up a tree, Brutus's panting. Anything to keep those sad memories from coming back into light, but the closer they got to Starkhaven, the more often she found herself recalling everything over the past two years. Perhaps it was because of Fenris's idea to seek their friends out in aid, or perhaps she was just getting nervous the deeper they travelled into the Free Marches. Or maybe it was just the situation they were in that caused this journey to find their friends in the first place. It had been so long since she had seen Sebastian, or any of her former companions for that matter. If the loyalty of any of their friends had faltered over this past year—

Hawke sighed. She and Fenris had agreed some time ago that Sebastian would be the first person they would seek out, though, he hadn't been their first choice. But since he was the only one to boast about where he was going, it was a good place to start as any.

During their last nights together, Sebastian had offered refuge in his city to everyone in the group—except Anders—but no one had really been willing to take it. Being the unannounced second home of the Chantry as well as the closest neighbor to Kirkwall, Hawke had pointed out to him just how suicidal it would be for any of them to go there.

"The place will be crawling with Templars before we even arrived," Hawke had said. "If I had wanted to be captured, I would've just stayed at Kirkwall."

No one could disagree with that. All the same, Sebastian left the offer open before he left for his home the next morning.

The group had stayed together until Isabela's parting at Ostwick (she seemingly "obtained ownership" of a ship in port there, it broke poor Merril's heart when she left) after that their numbers started shrinking quickly. Anders left one night without a word to anyone—that hadn't been too terrible a loss for Hawke, who had grown to detest the blond mage; Fenris had practically thrown a party in celebration—and Merril followed suit just a month later. Though, Merril's leaving hadn't been so much of a sudden thing, the blood mage had been talking of redeeming her sin of the forbidden magic for months before the final battle in Kirkwall had even began. One day, she found her calling in a small village seeking a healer. She left that same afternoon. Varric stuck around for a month or so before they received word that things had settled down in Kirkwall finally. He left with—much to Hawke's dismay—the promise of continuing his tales of her adventures.

"I'll add in a heroic death for ya if you like, Hawke," the dwarf had offered, half-joking. But Hawke, still in a good-humored mood at that point in time, had instead suggested he make up some fanciful epilogue. Now, though, she wishes she had taken his offer. Hawke would never get the chance to tell him that though, since Varric's return to Kirkwall, he's been out of her reach both in writing and visitation. Kirkwall was never to be a place she could return too.

After just two months of goodbyes, only Bethany, Aveline, Donnic, and Fenris were left at her side. Aveline and Donnic stayed with them the longest, though more than once Hawke had over heard them talking about Sebastian's offer in Starkhaven.

Bethany, unfortunately, was called off on duty as a warden when they reached the city of Seleny in Antiva. She would send letters to Hawke every week though, making them appear out of thin air wherever they were. This continued for a while until suddenly the letters stop coming. Fearing the worst, Hawke broke down in a heap of sadness that was still not fully cured. That had been when Hawke's spell of melancholy started: taking away her joking and light-hearted nature and replacing it with a quieter, less hopeful Hawke that shut everyone out. Well, everyone except for Fenris. He had stuck with her through thick and thin and seemed to be the only one to pull her back out of her quiet darkness. The hurt had only continued for Hawke though, because it wasn't long after that that Aveline and Donnic decided to part ways as well.

It was a tearful goodbye, and though it had broken Hawke's heart all over again, she was at least grateful they didn't just vanish as Bethany had. Since they had never said where they were going, Hawke suspected that Aveline and Donnic had eventually given into Sebastian's offer of refuge and gone to Starkhaven. But after events in recent months' past, she had all but given hope that their luck would change in favor of that being the case.

Hawke let out a long deep exhale as she remembered it all. It was just as she felt before: bittersweet laced with a multitude of nameless emotions. Her and Fenris's lives had changed so much over the past year, and so many more memories had been made that she had locked everything away in hopes that her melancholy would be buried with it. But now that she thought on it, burying away those memories did nothing but add cold winds to the winter in her heart. It hadn't been until after Fenris had given her his piece of him had the snow and ice started to melt away.

Now, as she trailed behind him, Hawke saw Fenris in a whole new light. She could finally understand the attachment Fenris always had to her; finally know what he was feeling when he looked at her as his personal savior. So long ago, Hawke had saved Fenris in both body and mind from Denarius and the abuse that had lingered from him. And now, Fenris had paid her back two-fold by saving Hawke from herself.

Of course, she had always loved Fenris; ever since their first night together Hawke had loved the lyrium-tattooed elf. But now—words couldn't describe what she felt for him. He had saved her life and given her a new one to look forward. She smiled as she thought back to how she'd told him he wasn't alone after the issue with his sister—that he had her by his side and always would. How ironic, now, that he could just turn around and say the exact same thing to her. Well, somewhat the same anyways.

Hawke, still in a bittersweet mood, decided to give small talk a shot again. "Do you think Sebastian took the throne?" She tried.

"Probably," came her short-answered reward for her efforts. Hawke's face fell but after a moment Fenris continued, "He certainly talked enough about it."

Hawke perked up. "I wonder how he went about claiming the throne," she mused, "Maybe he marched into the city as a one-man army; bow blazing as he claimed the city in the glorious name of Andraste."

Hawke saw the edge of Fenris's cheek raise in a smile, "Perhaps he's even tore down his castle and built an enormous Chantry in its place."

She chuckled, "And he's written to the Divine to seek her approval on his Holy Rule of the city,"—Hawke did a dance of victory in her mind as Fenris chuckled at that—"A fitting outcome for our saintly-friend."

"Very," Fenris said. His responses went back to their one-word-ways as Hawke continued to jest at the expense of their old ally. Eventually though, the conversation lead to other topics, but it just made the journey that much more bearable for Hawke.

For hours they walked on, resting only if they absolutely needed too, and even then only if they felt the way might not be clear ahead. Often Fenris would hold up a hand to quiet the conversation, just for a moment to listen to his surroundings, before lowering it and allowing Hawke to babble on again.

They kept to the higher part of the trails, taking advantage of the height to watch the roads below for anything and anyone who may be traveling below them. Recent events had made the pair rather paranoid, which only made having the Mabari all that more useful.

They had found the abandoned war-hound while traveling through the drylands—they had eventually decided to travel out to Rivain in hopes of finding Isabela there, but to no avail—and after imprinting on Fenris, Brutus had proven his worth by taking down a couple bandits they hadn't notice were following them. Though, that still hadn't been able to ease their minds as of late.

Another hour of travel and Fenris stopped suddenly, making Hawke almost run into his pack.

"Fenris?"

"Look," was all he said as he pointed a finger ahead of him to a clearing through the trees. Evidently there was something beyond only his elf eyes could see. Hawke pushed past the thick brush and came to an open ledge. Just before her was the bridge Fenris had spoken of.

It crossed the canyon with a downward slope; something Hawke knew was going to make things difficult for Fenris when he made to cross it. They would have to cross one at a time—which only made Hawke even more nervous. Fenris come up behind her.

"Well," she started sarcastically, "This'll be fun."

Fenris, though, just chuckled. "You don't see it do you?" he asked, coming about to her side.

Hawke gave him a curious glance, "See what?" Her mind immediately gave her responses in his voice; responses she dreaded to hear.

Fenris said nothing, however, and instead just wrapped an arm around her shoulder as he made his head level with hers, pointing off into the distance once more. Hawke followed his finger to a point far beyond the edges of the small mountain they stood upon. The river continued its cut into the earth off into the distance, gleaming as it reflected the bright full moon above them. And there, gleaming just as brightly—though still a small gleam—was Starkhaven.

Hawke's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach before fluttering back up towards her chest. Just beyond this bridge was their destination, and their hope. Hawke breathed in sharply as possibilities both good and bad flooded her thoughts, drowning her attention in a sea of what if's and maybe's. So much so that she jumped slightly as Fenris laced his fingers with hers, which only made him chuckle. He kissed her cheek and turned her face towards his with his other hand.

"It'll be fine Hawke. Whatever's waiting for us in that city, I'll be there," her hearted melted at his words of comfort, solidified, and then melted again as he kissed her softly shortly after. Hawke just smiled in response, giving his hand a squeeze.

Too quickly, though, he let go, and started ahead of her again. Taking the first steps across the old bridge himself first. Hawke looked on after him, partially watching in protection, and partially in awe of his being.

The moon reflected off the silver armor on his arms, the only break in that being the red favor that he wore around his wrist in honor of Hawke. She smiled at it, stifling a giggle as she thought about how she used to want something of his to have as a favor for him. Something that she could have that would always remind her of him, no matter where they were or if they were ever apart from each other.

_Funny how things work out_, she thought as he made it across, safe and sound.

.-.-.-.-.

The last leg to the city was farther than either of them had anticipated, and being such, drained them of the energy they had been saving in case there was a battle ahead. But they prepared their weapons all the same as they approached the outer gate.

Starkhaven, it seemed, was surrounded by a none-too-intimidating, semi-circular wall that broke only where the river was. The Minanter River ran strait through the city, splitting off only at one side, which, Hawke assumed, fed the farming fields outside the city. (The city itself was so enormous, though, that sight of these alleged farms were impossible.) Small ships could be seen, tied along docks from where they crouched in the brush. And the houses! Hawke was in utter awe of the towering buildings that only grew in size the further she peered in.

_Starkhaven makes Kirkwall look like a small port town, _Hawke thought as she took it all in. It would take them weeks to find Sebastian in all of this, even if he was the Prince.

To the left from where they crouched in the brush was the road from before, leading up to the only pedestrian entrance on this side. It was a large iron gate with slits only large enough to fit parcels through. Two guards stood at either side of the gate.

Hawke turned to Fenris who was eyeing the guards, "How are we going to go about this?"

No response.

"Fenris?"

"Shh."

Hawke's brows furrowed, but she complied. _Fine, put together your plans then._

They sat there for a few moments longer before Fenris finally sighed. "It's no good." He murmured.

Hawke blinked, "What isn't?"

"I've been trying to think of a way we can just sneak in when the guard changes, but the longer I look at that gate, the more I notice the shadows moving just beyond it," Hawke looked back at the gate, trying to see the shadows he spoke of, but couldn't. "From what I've seen, there should be no reason to change guard until dawn here."

"So what does that mean? We have to just jump the wall?"

Fenris shook his head, "It would be too risky. I can't see them, but I sense the guards are lined on patrol all along the inner walls. That's why I keep seeing shadows just beyond."

Hawke's brow furrowed further in thought as she considered their nearly silent exchange of words. Jumping the wall was out, so was passing through during the changing of the guard (assuming there ever would be one). Going via waterway had been ruled out the moment they got there since even those openings had iron gates over them; keeping any ships from entering the city during the cover of night, she guessed. _Something must have this city scared of the dark, _Hawke thought with a snort as she put it all together.

She looked over at Fenris who still hadn't taken his eyes away from the guards.

"Should we just wait till dawn then?" she whispered under her breath. Again, Fenris hesitated on his answer.

"No," was all he said.

Hawke's face fell. No? So if they couldn't wait till dawn, and they couldn't sneak in, what was there left to do besides just walking up to the gate and requesting entrance? She repeated her confusion out loud, but again Fenris said nothing, just grunted in response.

After a moment though, Fenris carefully took off his pack and set it down at Hawke's side. "Put your hood up," Fenris demanded as he did the same and started to stand. Hawke, bewildered, quickly grabbed his cloak to stop him.

"Wait," she whispered, "what're you doing?"

"I'm gaining us passage into the city," was his simple reply.

"What—by just walking up to them!? Are you crazy!?" she hissed. Brutus whimpered at her side as her anger flared. "Andraste's ass, Fenris, I thought you would've seen how stupid that is, not actually consider it!"

Fenris shook himself out of her grip and grabbed his massive long sword, slinging it around his back. "I'll be fine," he said, "The second guard's asleep anyways."

Hawke's head snapped back at the gate and sure enough there was a subtle and steady lull to the left guards head as he leaned against the wall, something Hawke had easily over-looked before. Seems that had been what Fenris had been watching and waiting for: for the guard to fall asleep. With one guard asleep, that would make things an even one-on-one for Fenris in case he—

"No," Hawke shot up just before he left the safety of their hiding place. The reality had finally settled in on his plan. "I'm not going to allow you cut those poor men down just to get into the city."

But Fenris just shook his head, laying a hand on her shoulder as he gently sat her back down on the ground. "I'm not planning on fighting my way into the city, Hawke. I'm doing just as I said, asking for passage." Hawke's eyes narrowed, not believing a word. Calm and diplomatic had never been Fenris's strong suite in handling things.

"How do I know you won't start a fight?" she challenged, her eyes still narrow, her voice still hissing in a sharp whisper. His eyes flashed between her and their largest pack. _Oh, _Hawke thought. That one made sense. Hawke plopped onto the ground, grumbling.

"Why do you have to be the one to go though," she tried one last time.

"Because better I be seen here than you," Fenris retorted, a little coldly.

Hawke just huffed. He had her on that one too.

Just then a loud whine broke the silent tension between them. Hawke and Fenris froze, now glued to where they were in the brush as two coughs also came from their tiny hiding place. The guard that had been snoozing jumped back to life, taking a defensive stance along side the other guard, who had also heard the noise. _Figures he would hear that and not all of the arguing that just occurred_, Hawke thought.

"Who goes!" said the sleepy guard to the left.

Panicked, blue eyes met livid green ones before both sets turned to the pack between them. Brutus was already there, whimpering and nosing the top of it. Hawke looked back up at Fenris, "Go," she mouthed. He nodded and did so, heading out of the brush and into the open. Better they handle this quickly.

Hawke looked back to the pack, her heart racing in her chest. More than once this had blown their cover. And though Fenris had intended to show him and eventually her as well, Hawke now feared that there might be another brought into the equation if they didn't hurry. One they very much didn't want known, especially not here, not now.

"Just a humble traveler," Fenris's voice drew Hawke's attention back in his direction. He had halted in the center of the road, hands up to show he meant no harm. (Not that the long-sword on his back did much for his case.)

The guard to the right seemed to lower their weapon a bit, relaxing a little. But the sleepy guard kept his stance. "What business have you traveling the high road this late at night?"

"I seek shelter for the night," Fenris kept his voice strong but cool, keeping the guard form suspecting that he meant them any harm. "For me and my kin."

The sleepy guard didn't falter in his stance, but the guard to the left dropped their weapon fully. Hawke immediately went for the throwing knives at her belt, just in case.

"How many are you?"

Fenris hesitated in his answer, and for a moment Hawke wondered in silent horror if Fenris was really going to say the number she was thinking. _He'd only do it to save us from a fight,_ a small voice in the back of her mind tried to reason. But ice ran cold through her veins all the same. She drew in a breath when he opened his mouth to speak and then released it in a sigh of relief as he replied, "Three."

"There's no entrance to the city at night," came the solid reply of the guard. There was an edge to be found in his tired voice.

"Very well," Fenris said, bowing slightly in respect, "Then I shall wait till morning." He made to turn.

Hawke turned away and started to quickly gather their things as another small whimper came form Brutus. She could hear Fenris start to approach the shadows again when—

"Fenris?"

Hawke stopped. Another female voice had said his name, something Hawke hadn't expected. She turned back to see the sleepy guard looking to his right at the other guard who was removing their helmet. Short brown hair trailed out from under the helmet as it was lifted away to reveal a heart-shaped face beneath. Hawke and Fenris looked on in disbelief.

"Brennan?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I have to admit, I liked Brennan's convenience as a character. As small of a role as she had in the game, her presence always seemed to be convenient in helping Hawke and Aveline do missions amongst the guard. It seemed only fitting that she be overly helpful in this story too. **

**Also, I feel the need to say that last chapter was exceptionally shorter then I had originally drawn it up to be. But after adding the modifications to it—as well as taking away a few things—I felt it right to end it where I had. Originally the first third of this chapter was supposed to the end of the last. I wonder which would've been more devious…**

**And I feel I must also apologize for how long it took me to get this chapter up and running. The holidays were unusually busy for me.**

**.-.-.-.**

**Chapter Two.**

Hawke looked between Fenris and Brennan, unsure of what to do. There wasn't any telling if they were still wanted in the Free Marches, and Brennan openly saying Fenris's name like that had immediately put all of them at risk—noise mishap aside. But as Brennan hesitantly stepped forward to get a better look at the elf, the growing smile on her face made her intentions a little more clear.

"I thought it may have been you," Brennan said with a grin. "It's been some time hasn't it?"

Fenris hesitated, unsure of what to say. "It… certainly has," he tried, awkwardly. "I see you're a guard here now."

Brennan just beamed, "I am! After the fall of Kirkwall, there wasn't any guard left. Then word came from Starkhaven saying that they were taking refugees. So my family and I packed up and came here."

Ignorance was truly bliss.

The sleepy guard stepped forward now too though, his weapon still clenched in his hand. "Oi, Brennan! You know this elf?"

"Yeah, he's a refugee like us," Brennan started, gesturing between the two, "This is my partner, Complan. He's a bit lazy, but a good patrolman."

"As good as any patrolman that sleeps on the job," Fenris retorted. There was impatience to his voice that was clear to Hawke. _And rightfully so,_ she thought as another cough came from their pack.

"Just keep your comments to yourself, _elf_," Complan said harshly. "And be on your way, there's nothing for you and your kin here."

Fenris bowed and went to leave but Brennan stopped him again.

"Wait—This elf is no danger, Complan, we can let him through."

"No danger!?" Complan roared, "Look at the weapon he carries, Brennan! How is _that_ no danger!" At this point Hawke was already to her feet, packs at the ready to leave. She would rather spend another night outside in the cold then sit here waiting through someone else's debate.

"But—"

"No but's, Brennan! Guard-Captain Aveline's orders: No one through after nightfall!"

Fenris and Hawke both froze.

_Guard-Captain Aveline._

Fenris stared into the shadow where Hawke was hiding, his face in just as much shock as hers. Their eyes locked and silent words of disbelief and happiness were exchanged as they both let the news sink in. Aveline and Donnic were _here_! _Three_ of their friends were here in Starkhaven, not one. Perhaps their luck was changing after all; perhaps the Maker was really looking after them.

_Or perhaps it is a trap_, Fenris's eyes hardened—he was thinking the same thing. A creative way to get Hawke out in the open, to get her captured; only one way to find out.

Fenris turned then to face the guards, "Aveline is here?"

Brennan shrugged, as if he should have known better, "Well yeah, it's why you came isn't it?"

Complan took a harsh step forward, his weapon drawn, "I said your business is done here elf!"

Fenris ignored him, "Wait—why would it be the reason why I came?"

"Well because the Captains lost their baby. The funeral is tomorrow."

Hawke's heart stopped dead in her chest. How often had she heard her friends speak of settling down with children of their own? Hawke didn't know, but she remembered that Aveline and Donnic had been trying for one even before Kirkwall was destroyed. Now things were starting to make sense as to why the city was in lock down. The death of Aveline and Donnic's—the Guard-Captains of Starkhaven—child would be like that of a noble in this city. Especially with Sebastian, the Prince, being such a close friend.

A sudden sense of selfishness came over Hawke as she thought of their original reason of coming to this city: to seek aid from their friends in a time they so desperately needed it most. Now, it seemed, the positions were reversed. The Maker hadn't brought them here to receive help, but to give it. To be there for her friends like she used too, all her problems put aside.

But could she put _this_ issue aside?

Hawke looked to their largest pack, knowing all too well what slept beneath that top flap; wrapped up like a wound to protect from harm and avoid detection.

Fenris began speaking again but Hawke was too lost in thought to really hear. Perhaps he was giving condolences, or perhaps he was correcting his reasons for coming, Hawke didn't know—Hawke didn't care. All she could do was stare down at that pack, her mind wandering to its darkest reaches, plucking out all the horrific things that could've happened to cause this death—no—this tragedy to befall her friends. How? What? Who? The thoughts went rushing by, from the most horrific to the simplest accidents; she felt her mind begin to swim from all the questions. And then, hidden amongst them, was a one that ran her blood cold.

What would Aveline do if she were in Hawke's position?

Hawke looked out into the clearing ahead. Fenris was speaking softly to Brennan, who was being dragged back and forth between him and Complan in conversation. Suddenly, Complan threw down his weapon and stormed up to Fenris, pointing a finger in his face and shouting something threatening and offensive at him. Brennan shoved Complan to the side as Fenris's voice hardened, the lyrium on his arms beginning to glow faintly.

Hawke took a long, deep breath in before standing up strong and tall. She let down her long hair—a suggestion by Isabela long ago to help with disguise—and raised her hood, the cloak hiding her body from notice as it had so many times before. Then took a step forward, away from their small hiding place and out into the clearing. Shadows befell her face as the moon lit up her figure. She walked forward, no longer fearful of being known or caught. Brennan was the first to notice her, and then Complan, his shouting stopped midsentence at Fenris. And then finally Fenris, the elf whom had given her new purpose and meaning in life—the father of _their_ child—turned to meet her gaze.

She smiled at him, but his face was still just as hard as before. His hand went strait to the hilt of his sword as Complan said angrily, "This _wench_ the kin you speak of elf?" Hawke reached out to take his other hand, and though his lyrium stopped it's glow, his hand still stayed at the ready.

Fenris swallowed hard, resisting the urge to say her name, "What're you—" he started softly, but she interrupted him.

"Brennan," Hawke began, "If you could send our condolences to the Captains for me, I would be grateful."

Brennan stammered, "Uh—uhm sure, Messare, but who—"

"Just tell her an old friend is very sorry for her loss. And hopes the best for her and her family," Hawke replied strongly.

Brennan just gaped, unsure of what to say or do. She nodded after a moment and said, "Of course, Messare."

Hawke turned to Complan then, "I am sorry to have troubled you, guardsman. My kin and I will leave you to your duty now," she tugged Fenris's hand, "Come on, Fenris. Let us be off."

"But Haw—" She just shook her head. He lowered his hand from his blade and laced his fingers with hers with the other. "If you wish."

Something about Hawke caught Brennan's eye then, and she called out the pair as they disappeared back into the shadows. But Hawke just ignored her. Sure that if Brennan had figured it out, Aveline would at least know that they were there for her even if they couldn't be _right_ there.

As they walked back into their little hide away, Fenris went to take on the large pack once more but Hawke stopped him. Silently, she reached inside and took out their child—a small baby girl with frosty white hair, a pudgy human face, and little pointed ears—and cradled her in her arms. Fenris shuttered, drawing in a breath sharply but Hawke paid him no mind, just kissed the sleeping babe on the forehead and started walking again. Fenris, taking on the now empty pack, followed on behind her. There was no speaking between Hawke and Fenris in that moment or even in the next hour beyond that. They just simply walked right back up the path in which they had come from.

Quiet and unthinking, Hawke didn't stop until the sun started to rise in the east, bringing light to the dull world around them. Not until her feet began to ache and her eyes became weary and tired from the exhaustion of their trek. When at last they stopped, Hawke all but collapsed onto the ground, Fenris taking the babe into his arms in her stead. He set the child down in her swaths of blankets in the pack before replacing her with Hawke, cradling her and tangling his fingers in her long black hair.

And at last, Hawke allowed herself to break free from her blank state, and all the emotions came rushing back to her again: sorrow, depression, hurt, all of the worst of the many that can be found in a being. And she cried—oh did Hawke cry, burying her face deep into the crevice of Fenri's neck.

"She—lost—her baby," Hawke hiccupped in between sobs. "How could—we—ask for help—at a time like this?"

Fenris just shushed her by tucking her face into his neck once more. But Hawke kept on with her murmurs and sobs, hiccupping all the while.

"What—if it had been—Ava," she continued. Fenris went rigid, which only made her cry more. _I could never ask such a thing from Aveline,_ she continued in her head, though she had meant to say it aloud. _How selfish it would be of me to ask for help with _my _child when hers' just died._

_But you will eventually have to seek aid_, a voice reminded her. And she would. Hawke and Fenris couldn't remain on the run with their daughter much longer. The cold weather and travel was starting to make the child sick. And though little Ava's sleeping was finally on somewhat of a schedule—being a year old now and all—it was wearing them thin. So much so that more than once they had been caught unawares by bandits and slavers. Yes, they would eventually have to seek out help. But now it was no longer from whom but _when_.

They had people at their disposal, friends nearby, even motive. But now—they couldn't ask for help _now._ Hawke didn't know if they ever could. At least not from Aveline and Donnic.

Little Ava woke then, fussing and whining, as babies do when they get up for the day. Hawke started to rise to go get her but Fenris gently pressed her back down. He leaned her down onto the ground, his cloak wrapped up into a makeshift pillow for her head. Then he walked away from her sight to the little girl's aid.

As Hawke lay there, sobbing and broken on the ground, she let her mind go blank again. Exhausted from the night's events and trials she knew were ahead of her, Hawke closed her eyes. Allowing herself a few moments peace as she breathed deeply, listening to the world around her. And slowly, peacefully, she fell asleep; one final word—a name—left quivering on her lips:

"Avannriel."

.-.-.-.

The window revealed sights Aveline had hoped to never have to see in her lifetime. Black flags bearing the Vallen family crest hung from just about every doorstep in the city. Setting a path through Starkhaven for the procession to follow as it made its way up to the Chantry. People walked by her house in threads of black and gold, some bearing flowers and others gifts, all in honor of her stillborn son. Many were people she didn't even know, and most only knew her as the Captain of the Guard, but all seemed genuine in their condolences to her and Donnic. However, Aveline would gladly return every gift, flower, and every other worldly possession she owned to not have to live through this day.

True, Aveline had no regrets about bearing Donnic's child for 9 months. She did not blame him or herself for birthing it stillborn. And though she wished she had had the chance to get to know their son, she had been happy at least that he had died without feeling any pain. But it had still broken Aveline's heart to hold that dead infant in her arms for the first and last time. And now it was going to have to break all over again as she lead his body to greet the Maker once more.

Aveline sighed and turned away from the window. There were several hours still to come before the procession would begin, and she still had to get prepared. Donning her housecoat, she started to make her way towards the door.

It opened before she could reach it, however, and their head servant, Naniel, stood patiently in the doorway.

"You've being called on, my lady, to receive one of your guardsman at the door," he said with a slight nod of the head. Naniel was an older, surlier elf with graying brown hair and a drive for order. He had proven to be quite particular about how their home was kept, always yelling at their other two servants about moving things out of place, but had always shown the upmost respect to Donnic and herself. Something Aveline quite admired about the old elf, though she could do without the constant grumpiness.

"Thank you, Naniel, I'll go to them now," Aveline said before shooing him off. Naniel bowed and respectfully moved out of her way, shutting the door behind her as she went for the stairs.

She passed one of their other servants—a young woman named Carla—on her way and smiled politely at the girl, who shyly smiled back. Aveline had always tried to be as polite as possible to her servants, showing them the respect they deserved for keeping her large house so clean. And yet she couldn't help but still feel awkward when she was around them, having never had servants before in her life, much less a house big enough to need them. In fact, she had always thought it kind of strange whenever she had would visit Hawke even, to see servants ready to wait on them. And it was no different now that she had some of her own. Of course, Hawke had always seemed to handle it a little better, telling her servants to take days off, or go run errands for themselves once things were done. That would be considered sacrilege in this city, however, so Aveline would have to just suffer silently at their consistent need to heed her every whim.

When Aveline reached the foot of the stairs, the guardsman Naniel had spoken of turned to greet her.

"Guardsman Complan, here to give the nights report, Captain," he bowed before handing two scrolls her way. Aveline took them graciously.

"Thank you guardsman. All was quiet on your patrol, I presume?" Aveline asked absent-mindedly as she tucked the first scroll under her arm. She began walking to her study as she opened the other; guardsman Complan respectfully followed.

Complan hesitated in his answer, "There was a… minor incident early this morning at the gate, but other then that a very uneventful night, Captain."

"Mmm," Aveline replied as she continued to read the reports. She glanced up briefly as she sat down at her desk and asked, "Where's guardsman Brennan?"

"Still at the barracks speaking to Captain Donnic," Complan paused, "May I report something, Captain? About Brennan, I mean."

Aveline looked up, "Go ahead."

"Well," he started, "I'm afraid Brennan may not be suitable for night patrol anymore, Captain. Almost let complete strangers into the city last night; went directly against your orders."

Aveline raised an eyebrow, "Well its not unusual for tradesmen to arrive during the early hours, guardsman. What's this about?"

"I put it all in the report, Captain: these travelers were no tradesmen, I assure you."

Aveline started to skim through the first scroll until she found Complan's report. It was extensive, as always, with details added in that didn't need to be reported such as what time the merchants were done closing up shop and where the latest "suspicious noise" was coming from. At last, though, she made it to the part about this _incident_ he had mentioned. She began to quote aloud: "'At early morning we were startled by the sound of strange coughing coming from the shadows,"—Aveline paused to look up at Complan disapprovingly—,"'before an elf emerged heavily armed. He claimed to seek safe passage into the city but became hostile when it was denied. Guardsman Brennan tried to treat the stranger with familiarity, claiming he was a refuge from Kirkwall, and then proceeded to disobey direct orders by allowing the elf passage into the city. I respectfully intervened and manage to keep the situation from turning into an unnecessary battle when the elf's kin approached, also heavily armed. I could not see her face but the daggers at her sides were clearly visible—," Aveline stopped and sighed, knowing without finishing that it was heavily exaggerated. She would just have to get the _real_ report from Brennan. _Oh Complan,_ Aveline thought as she pinched the bridge of her nose. After a moment's pause she finished sarcastically with a 'thank you' for his report.

Guardsman Complan just beamed, straitening up and folding his hands behind his back. "My pleasure, Captain. But, aren't you going to finish it? I think that elf may have been—," but Aveline just raised a hand.

"Thank you, guardsman, but I will look into the matter myself. Report back to the barracks before you head home."

"But what about Brennan—?"

"To the barracks," Aveline pointed, what little patience she had left, now gone.

Complan hesitated, but soon bowed, leaving the study a little less proud.

Once he was gone, Aveline proceeded to search through the rest of the scroll for Brennan's report. It, like most of the others, was brief and strait to the point. Only hers seemed to be unusually short, with only a few words scrawled on to the page. _**Report to be given in person**_ was all it said. Aveline just slumped back into her chair. _Of course it does,_ she thought as she began to open the second scroll. A list of patrols to be made and complaints to be looked into was on this one.

It was a significantly thicker than the other scroll, but this was always to be expected in a city such as Starkhaven. Usually the complaints were nothing to be concerned with, just nobles and merchants bickering about one another, but every so often there would be something of worth to really look into. Aveline would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it though. As much work as it all was, she felt she was begining to thrive in Starkhaven, in some ways more than Kirkwall, though she did miss how things were before. It helped to have Donnic as the second Captain, though—with a city this large, two had been required—partially because it made dealing the many complaints easier, but mainly because she was able to work so closely with him.

Aveline smiled as she leaned over her desk, glad she was able to throw herself into her work; to indulge her mind into something that made her happy, at least for a little while today. She knew all to well that such things wouldn't get done after the funeral, so best it be done now while it still could. The many citizens meant well with their condolences, but they weren't about to put their own lives on hold for one person.

So she got to work, skimming through the complaints, marking out those that weren't in her jurisdiction to deal with and circling the ones that were. She added notes here and there on who would be appropriate to handle which complaint before continuing on down the line to cross out and circle the rest. It was extensive work, and a little frustrating when the same thing was reported several times over, but she pushed through it all the same. Things seemed to be pretty in check though, all things considered. Truthfully there wasn't too much on the list that seemed unusual—though the Chantry was starting to pop up a little more than normal—which only helped Aveline to get through it faster. And after just an hour of work she was done with that section. So Aveline decided to move onto the next matter of business, which was setting up the roster for next week. This was something that would have to be changed periodically throughout the week, so she was sure to leave enough room for error as she drew it up. Aveline was diligent with it, making sure to check her mail pile for letters from her guardsmen requesting time off and taking it into consideration for schedule. She even took out her map of Starkhaven to make sure she was writing down the right areas for her guardsmen, making sure that she had everything that she wanted for the week set just right for Donnic to approve later that night. But all to soon Aveline was done with that too, leaving her with only letters to answer now. Since this was something that would only increase through out the day, she felt it necessary to look through all of them—if only to just keep herself busy for a little while longer.

She started as she always had, sorting them into the piles of who they were from first, and then into what class of citizen from there. It went by rather smoothly until she came across a thick envelope with just her name scrawled neatly across the front. Aveline blinked and flipped it over, her interest only becoming more piqued as she looked at the signet pressed into the wax. It was the Tethras family crest; an unusual thing for Varric to be writing to her out of the blue like this.

Aveline proceeded to open the letter. Two pages were enclosed in the small envelope, the paper folded far too many times just to accommodate its size. When at last she was able to unfold them, it seemed as though Varric had just ripped the paper right out from one of his books, it was so thick and expensive. The jagged tears down the sides only proved this theory as Aveline examined it more closely. _Varric must've been in a hurry to write if he just ripped it out of his book, _Aveline thought as she looked over the two pages. A hole was in the middle of the second page, which was more of an illustration than a letter, almost as if someone had stabbed it with a knife.

Something seemed off about the illustration though, something far too familiar about the six heads that were drawn in a circle around a red hexagon, and far too accurate about the faces on the page, especially the read-haired maiden with a band about her head. Aveline gasped then as she realized this was an illustration of her and her friends from Kirkwall. Varric, Merril, Isabela, Fenris, and Anders, all were there, including her. Everyone, except Hawke.

Aveline immediately turned to the letter, reading through it quickly in hopes of an explanation for this illustration of them, and why, above all else, it had them listed as the clear companions of the Champion of Kirkwall. Ice ran through her veins as the words "accomplice" and "Seeker" flew across her view as she read. And felt her heart begin to race as she read through it again; hoping that what she saw wasn't truly the case. But the reality was clearly there, scrawled neatly on the page like a fancy death warrant to their happy, simple lives here in Starkhaven.

Naniel appeared then, knocking on the open door politely as he usually did, and causing Aveline to jump by doing so. He waited patiently as she pulled herself together. "Master Donnic is here," he said with a bow before ghosting away.

Aveline swallowed hard as she stared back down at the letter on the desk. This news could not have come at a worse time for her—something Varric had politely apologized for in the beginning of it—and she found herself wondering if she should even tell Donnic about it _because_ of the timing. She quickly decided against doing so and tucked the letter away in top drawer of her desk. No, this would be something she would look into herself and, like with the complaints earlier, set her most trust worthy guards to the task of looking out for this Seeker. _Perhaps there is still a chance of this being handled civilly_, she thought as she looked to the doorway. But regardless of how it was handled, it would still have to be dealt with all the same. _But not today, _she concluded.

Aveline straitened herself then, doing her best the wipe the worry off her face as she made for the door. She could _not allow_ Donnic to know of this, not today at least. Today was reserved for them, and even she should be doing her best to focus on that. But despite the smile she gave her husband when she saw him the news still weighed heavily on her mind.

"Surely that isn't what you're wearing," Donnic said, half jokingly to lighten the mood.

But Aveline almost didn't hear him. "Oh, no don't be silly, Donnic. I've just been a little busy with work is all; just about to head up to get ready," she lied with a smile. Donnic, however, was no fool, and knew right away that something was wrong. But when he took Aveline's face into his hand, she knew it was for all the wrong reasons that he was worried about her. His comfort was welcome all the same though.

"I know you're upset about today, my dear, but it'll be over before we know it," Donnic said before giving her a quick kiss. "And I'll be right there with you through out all of it."

Aveline just smiled—much more genuinely now—at him. Indeed this was going to be much easier with Donnic there beside her. She cupped his cheek in her hand as well and murmured a 'thank you' to him. And as she made her way upstairs with him the weight on her heart began to take to the form that it had when she'd first got up this morning. Yes, today was just about them, no matter how much hurt was to come with that. And everything else was just going to have to wait.

**.-.-.-. **

**Again sorry for the delay, but I would like to leave a parting note saying that chapters will now be posted on a (relatively) weekly basis. Hope you enjoyed.**


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